


Party Crashers

by Kokolo



Series: Party Crashers [1]
Category: X-Men Evolution
Genre: Delinquents, Drunkenness, Gen, Jousting, One-sided Lance/Pietro, Partying, Pining, Swimming, Swimming Pools, Underage Drinking, drunk cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22725526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kokolo/pseuds/Kokolo
Summary: During those periods where the Brotherhood were on their own, they had developed several methods of circumventing poverty. One of their favorites was party crashing.
Series: Party Crashers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634173
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Party Crashers

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](https://whattheficery.tumblr.com/post/127007549299/fic-party-crashers) on August 18, 2015.
> 
> Edited by the forever fab Mugsandpugs <3

During those periods where the Brotherhood were on their own, sans Mystique, sans support, sans _everything,_ they had developed several methods of circumventing utter, familiar poverty. 

One of their favorites was party crashing.

All things considered, it wasn’t hard. A great deal of their classmates were well off, careless, and friendly. It helped that Pietro was popular. Lance was too, to a lesser extent, but Pietro had _charm._ If they couldn’t outright get an invitation, Maximoffian charisma got them all through the front door. The fact that Todd and Fred followed with empty pockets and stomachs was often overlooked. They all remained on their best behavior for the duration of their stay, minus a few lifted necessities and a lot of leftover food piled into the cooler Lance hid in the back of the jeep. They had a pretty good record considering their lackluster reputation. The only times they’d been forcibly thrown out had been when the X-Men were also in attendance, and that had only been after they’d failed to notice them and vacate without being seen.

Pietro’s personal favorite test of his skills was getting into places they had no relation to whatsoever - which is more or less how the Brotherhood found themselves outside of a housewarming party in the nicest part of town. The host clearly had a great deal of friends, which made the Brotherhood’s job of blending in very easy, made even easier by the open cabana bar near the pool. No, we’re family. No, we’re co workers. No, we’re from out of state. 

“Humans are so easily fooled.” Pietro remarked with a familiar sneer, hand on Lance and Todd’s shoulders. Fred nodded sagely behind him. Todd snickered. Lance swallowed his beer and tried not to look at the white hand kneading into his shirt.

Lance found himself at the bar, hiding from the sun and most of the people. Separating from the rest of the Brotherhood made their illusion of belonging easier. Lance sometimes had trouble keeping track of a collective story. Bars provided distraction, time to think, and some insurance that no one was really going to be paying attention or remember much of him, anyway. 

“Want anything, man?” asked a tall, scruffy looking man behind the bar. “Poolgarita? Fireball? Mudsilde?”

“No, thanks.” Lance raised his hand and waved the offer off. “I’m driving.”

“Suit yourself.”

The blender whirred to life and Lance looked over the yard. Fred had set up shop at the grill, Todd near the snack table. Pietro seemed to have vanished, which wasn’t at all unusual. There were several attractive people around, in swimwear no less, and Pietro liked nothing more than to be around others like himself, even if they were human. Appreciating the craft, he called it.

Pietro made a sudden appearance in a bathing suit, too tight, too low, and Lance felt his legs give out. 

“You know what-” Lance said, looking over his shoulder briefly. “Maybe I’ll take that drink.”

\---

Lance was nothing if not responsible. After that first drink he found Todd, made him put down his plate of food, took his hands, and placed his keys there. He closed his hands over Todd’s and looked him in the eye and told Todd not to let him drive. Todd nodded mutely, looked at other partygoers over Lance’s shoulders, and then Lance patted his shoulder and left to go back to the bar.

The man behind the bar was much less responsible, and so was the woman who replaced him. He downed five shots in the span of an hour, all cleverly disguised in a single drink that went down so smoothly Lance didn’t even realize it until he tried to let go of the bar and fell like he was falling off the face of the earth. Talking to his fellow partygoers became infinitely more interesting, so much safer than turning around toward the pool, for several reasons.

A few new friends later, Lance was given the scoreboard for water jousting, another drink, and transplanted from the bar to the deck above the pool. Fred and Todd were casually watching from the patio near the house. Pietro was officiating, of course, having made friends with nearly everyone in record time. He called for the teams, climbing out of the water, wet and heavy and shining. Lance almost lost the marker and the scoreboard and himself in the water. 

“Lancey!” Pietro greeted, slapping a wet palm onto his back. “Who’s up first? Let me see.” Lance held up the board for him and pointed near the first set of names. “Uh-huh. Okay. Thanks man. Don’t fall in.”

Pietro left Lance to lean heavily on the banister, clutching the marker and willing himself to focus. He wasn’t drunk enough for this. Not for very wet, very energized Pietro swimming up to him every few minutes, guiding him to cross off names and then diving away like a siren or a mermaid or whatever mythical creature that was too beautiful for words and would drown him the first chance he got.

“Where’s my drink?” Lance asked a vaguely familiar face. 

“What were you having?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then it’s probably that one.” They said, pointing to the red cup in front of him. “You want water?”

“I don’t need water.”

“I’ll get you water.”

“Thank you.”

Lance was already far past the point of repairing himself, but maybe if he got a little too desperate, he could drown himself before Pietro got the chance.

\---

Some time after the water jousting champions had been declared and the desserts had been brought out, Pietro came up to Lance, all smiles. 

“Brought your trunks.” He said, gracefully taking Lance’s drink from his hand. He chugged it and put the empty cup on the bar. “Go for a swim and sober up.”

“I’m not drunk.” Lance slurred.

“You are, Rockstar. You’ve been going hard since four.”

“Well what time is it now?” 

“Time for you to _stop.”_ Pietro stressed, gently pushing him away from the cabana and all of his new friends. “Go get changed. Don’t break your head open.”

Lance did as he was told, staying upright to spite Quicksilver’s quip. He spied Todd perched on a railing, eating and watching him stumble down the steps into the basement entrance. He followed the towel trail on the floor to the bathroom, changed, and wandered back out, all by himself. It wasn’t until he dumped his clothing in a corner and climbed back up the stairs that he realized just how out of it he was. He promptly abandoned his plan of going to tell Pietro to shove it. Instead, he made his way to the edge of the pool, obediently following orders so he didn’t make too much a fool of himself.

He fell into the deep end of the pool, expecting a shock, and found it pleasantly warm. It was heated - of course it’s heated, these people could use cash for wallpaper and still be loaded - another guest told him with a drink in their hand. Instead of being nice and offering their drink, they gave Lance a tube, and Lance floated away on it. 

Barring drink envy, Lance found the water lapping at his arms and back very relaxing. He shut his eyes for a moment, listening to the party around him, the water, the music pumping through the speakers. Lance knew enough to keep his head above water, especially since he couldn’t feel the bottom. He figured since there wasn’t any drink around and some of the guests were being selfish, he could sleep off enough of his stumbles to get back to the bar. He rested his head on the edge of the plastic tube, his wet face sticking to the hot plastic. 

Lance had only dozed off a moment when something brushed against his leg. For a moment he was panicked, not enough to move very much, but suddenly wondering what body of water he was in. Last he checked it had been a pool - but if he was in the ocean now this could be worrying. Lance lifted his head a little, looking down into the clear water, and saw something silvery dart past his leg, and then surface next to him.

“No sleeping.” The creature said to him. “I’m not saving you from drowning because you’re a drunk fuck, and I’m not letting Todd into this pool. It’s worth more than he ever will be.”

“Be nice.” 

“Be sober.”

The creature vanished from sight, but the water around his legs moved and Lance turned his head to watch it surface again. Pietro popped up on the other side of him, silver and white and entirely too close. He grasped Lance’s arm and gently guided him toward the more shallow end of the pool. Lance’s feet dragged along the bottom and he lifted them so he could float properly. Pietro stopped towing him near the edge and turned the tube so they faced each other.

“Stay put. I’m getting you water.”

“I’m in water.”

“Drinking water - do _not_ drink the pool water, boulder brains - and you are going to float with me in the shallow end and drink.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Shut up and stop spinning - do not puke in this pool. It’s also worth more than you.”

Pietro drifted away from Lance and left the pool. Lance watched him as he walked out, wondering how he’d grown legs so quickly, how he made shedding all that water look so _good._

\---

Night fell and someone kind and very smart guided Lance from the pool to the much shallower and smaller attached hot tub. Lance was sure he’d thanked them, both for the assistance to the warmer water and the offered beer. Someone also brought him food and water, but not the same someone. 

Pietro came to sit beside him and Lance looked at him with half of a pizza slice in his mouth. He offered another bottle of water, and Lance took it, setting it beside the other one. Lance tried not to think too much about how little space was between them, focusing instead on chewing slowly. He felt better with food in his stomach. He hoped Todd had the foresight to store some of this away in the car while no one was looking. 

There were much less people than before. A lot of them had retired to guest rooms, others had called cabs, and still others weren’t haunted by silver sprites and meager living conditions, so they drank much, much less than Lance and left in one piece and in full control of their dignity. But Lance didn’t envy them. With less people around, Pietro was forced to spend time with him, if only because he got sick of humans after a while. Lance liked to think it was also because he was pretty cool most of the time. 

Pietro looped his arm around Lance’s shoulders and yanked him upright when his chin touched the water. He made a face, furrowed brows and tight lipped, and Lance knew it was supposed to be intimidating but he could only think _cute_ and how much he wanted all that focus to be on him all the time. Lance pressed his wet face into Pietro’s shoulder and left it there. The world waved like the water they were sitting in.

“You drunk bastard.” Pietro cooed. “Quit trying to drown yourself. Like I’d let you get off that easy.”

“I’m not- I just like how it feels.”

“Drowning?”

“No.” Lance slipped down further into the water and Pietro tightened his grasp into a headlock. “Stop it I can swim.”

“You’ll sink like the boulder brain you are now _knock it off.”_

Obediently, Lance set all his weight on his ass and balanced in the water. He abandoned the pizza and sipped cold water. He rubbed the bottle on Pietro’s shoulder and grinned when he twitched at the cold. The resulting splash made him cough and got the water bottle taken away from him. Without anything in his hands or to distract him, Lance tried hard not to stare at Pietro too long. He wound up staring longingly at the cabana instead, and then the sky when he slipped out of his seat too far. 

Lance surfaced against his will and found himself sitting on Pietro’s lap, Pietro’s arms around his waist, holding him afloat. Pietro grumbled something into his neck and Lance didn’t hear a word of it. He turned his head to ask Pietro what he’d said, and found Todd’s legs instead. The rest of Todd was up further, and with it part of Pietro’s wet hair.

“He alright yo?”

“Just drunk. Look at this guy.” Pietro laughed against his back and Lance squirmed. “Drunk motherfucker. I love it when he gets like this. It’s so _funny.”_

“I got his keys.”

“Good. I’ll drive.”

“Man you been drinkin’ all night too.”

“Quick metabolism. Keep up, wart boy.”

Pietro snapped his wet fingers and slid Lance off his lap into the seat beside him. Despite his best efforts he fell face first into the water. Pietro yanked him back up by the hair and Lance gasped for more than the obvious reason, sputtering for air. 

“Yo you weren’t kiddin.” Todd marveled from the edge. “Need a hand with him?”

“Nah, I can handle Rocky just fine.” Pietro appeared in Lance’s line of sight and grinned at him. “Ain’t that right, Lance?”

Lance nodded. He couldn’t trust himself to say or do much else. 

\---

The rest of the night passed in a blur - all of which clouded Lance’s attempt to get up the following morning. He knew very little - just that he was home, he was dry, dressed, and in edging on an incredible amount of pain. His attempts to avoid it landed him in the thick of a throbbing, mind-numbing hangover. Lance was mid agonized groan when something cool and wet laid itself over his eyes. He eased back onto the bed, lifting his hands to the wet cloth, pushing it into his eyes and temples, and then lifting it off to find Pietro kneeling beside his bed, chin in his hands, smiling at him in his hour of death. He was an absolute angel, and Lance would have told him if his head didn’t feel like he’d replaced all of the insides with pool water. His brain felt like it sloshed around behind his eyes, but he could still focus on Pietro.

“Morning, Lancelot.” Pietro said quietly. 

“How bad was it this time?” Lance breathed in sharply and shut his eyes, holding the cloth in his fist. “Did I get us kicked out?”

“No no - we left at midnight with most of the food. There were only a handful of people left so we bailed.”

“Did I say anything?”

Pietro didn’t answer, and Lance felt a pit in his stomach open up that added to his mild nausea. He’d done something stupid, and Pietro’s silence confirmed it. Lance just couldn’t focus on _what_ that could have possibly been. Mutations was the big one, but given their lives it could have been anything that would and could alert various authority figures from CPS to SWAT. There were big chunks of the previous night missing, and every attempt to find them had him walking face-first into blinding pain. He tried to sit up to abate some of the damage, only to be gently pushed back down to lie flat. Pietro was there with a gentle shake of his head. 

“Hey now- better stay horizontal for a while.” He murmured. “And you didn’t really say much. You were just one of the many boring drunks. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you that toasted.”

“Was I that drunk?”

“You got _hammered_ man.” Pietro told him, smiling still. “But not nearly as bad as the hostess. She was three sheets to the wind when we _got there._ Also, I’m pretty sure she loved your hair.”

Pietro lifted a strand and threaded it through his fingers to illustrate his point. He continued teasing the strand through his fingers, and distantly Lance wondered if he was just imagining he could feel things through his hair. Also, he knew he probably needed a shower - and that only made Pietro’s behavior seem off. Lance mopped his forehead with the wet cloth and then laid it across his neck.

“What do you remember?” Pietro asked suddenly. “About yesterday?”

“Drinking. Pool jousting tournament, swimming. The pizza was good. Did any of you bring any home?”

“Do you remember taking a tour of the house?” 

“No.”

“You missed out then. It was nice. Better than the X-Dweeb mansion.” Pietro snickered. “You asked her about her cat snakes and wanted to come over to play with them one day. She said yes, by the way. But don’t get too cozy. Apparently it’s her boyfriend’s house more than hers. But if you play your cards right you can get stone drunk at her cabana again and fall asleep in her pool and bring all of us along. What do you say?”

Lance answered with a groan, lifting his arm up to his face, covering his eyes. Pietro laughed at him. He pulled back his arms and rested his head on them, watching Lance until he peeked out. And after that, he held Lance’s gaze for a minute too long, although not entirely focused on him. He was thinking, Lance realized - something Lance wouldn’t be able to do for hours yet. 

“Okay!” Pietro said suddenly, springing up to his feet. “I’ve got you water, aspirin, a leftover sandwich from the party, set up a clean bucket, kicked Todd and Fred out of the second floor, closed your blinds, and I’m gonna shut the door on the way out. That should be all you need to get through this hangover without dying or fucking yourself up too badly. Unless you can think of anything in the next three seconds, I’m gonna take care of my own stuff and let you sweat this one out on your own, buddy. We cool?”

More than three seconds passed, but Pietro still waited, hands on his hips, bent over Lance’s prone body. Lance blinked and swallowed back the coppery tinge in his throat. Pietro was being extremely overbearing and kind with him, and Lance was worried. Usually Pietro was only this nice when it benefited him, and though he did wonder what a cat snake was, Lance wasn’t sure that Pietro was just being kind to talk Lance into going on that play date. Pietro dragged out a long humming noise to catch Lance’s attention, and Lance squeezed his eyes shut, and opened them again. The fuzzes disappeared to show a concerned Quicksilver still hovering over him, brow furrowed, no longer smiling.

“Yeah.” Lance said finally. “Thank’s ‘Tro.”

“Great- see ya!” 

And just like that, Pietro vanished. The door slammed shut behind him and one of the tablets vanished between Lance’s nightstand and the bed, but the rush of cool air was pleasant enough on Lance’s skin that he forgave Pietro instantly. Lance sat up as much as he could, downed the aspirin, and laid back down. He pulled the cloth over his eyes and soaked up the silence, dozing despite the pain in his head. When he finally dozed off, he dreamt he was floating, surrounded by silver.

**Author's Note:**

> So I went to a housewarming party the other day. This may or may not be loosely based on some of the shit I saw go down.
> 
> Water jousting is awesome and a great time, btw. Highly recommended. Especially double elimination tournament style with offered trophies at the end.


End file.
